Pajama Party
by Desdinova
Summary: Somewhat reminiscent of *The Ransom of Red Chief.* Not possible, not particularly plausible, but fun. Rated PG for some suggestive dialogue.
1. Default Chapter

"Ohmigod! A whole night ahead of us and no boys around!"  
  
Hikari Tamiya, better known to her friends as Kari, looked up from one of Mimi's fashion magazines. "You say this like it's a bad thing, Sora."  
  
Sora, an attractively lithe auburn-haired girl, snorted. "Not likely," she laughed. "Sometimes it's better not to have them around. It's not like any of them listen to us, is it?"  
  
Mimi turned from her vanity mirror to listen. "No. They really don't, do they?" Her gaze returned to the mirror, as she frowned at the reflection, trying to decide which lipstick to use. "I don't know why." Her hand hovered over innumerable cosmetic tubes, as she pondered. "Bashful Blush or Just About Red? What do you think, Sora?" She slumped in her chair and sighed.  
  
"I think you think about it too much," said Sora, confused as to why such a thing would matter."  
  
"Oh, you're right," said Mimi. "Neither one goes with my hair." She twirled one tress with her fingers. "Do you think I change my haircolor?"  
  
Sora shook her head slowly. "Mimi, do you ever have anything on your mind except hair?"  
  
Mimi missed the point. "No, sometimes I think about clothes, too."  
  
Sora laughed outright. "Mimi, you're incorrigible."  
  
Mimi shrugged, and went back to painting her face. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to look more like a girl, Sora."  
  
Sora made a face. "But why would I want to?"  
  
"Oh, Sora, you're hopeless!" snapped Mimi. "Why shouldn't you want to look your best?"  
  
Sora made a dismissive gesture. "There's nothing wrong with the way I look now."  
  
"I think it would be fun to have a beauty makeover ngiht," said Mimi, completely ignoring Sora's comment completely.  
  
"Well, it might be fun," said Kari. "You've got more cosmetics than the makeup counter at the corner druggist." She closed the magazine. "I've never worn the stuff. My mom won't let me. She says I'm too young."  
  
"So does mine," admitted Sora.  
  
"Oh, goodie," said Mimi. "So we can?"  
  
"Oh, all right!" snapped Sora. "Go ahead, do your worst. Just as long as nobody sees me in it."  
  
Mimi gathered her myriad brushes and tubes together, closing in on Sora with the avidity normal to vultures circling a carcass. Sora looked nervous.  
  
Kari set the magazine to one side. "Mimi, were you expecting anyone else?"  
  
Mimi was completely engrossed. "No," she replied, without looking up. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, I think we're being stalked," said Kari.  
  
Both girls turned around. "Stalked?" cried Mimi. "Who would do such a thing?"  
  
"Unless I'm mistaken, the shadow with the cloak behind the tree is Myotismon, and the suspicious shape by the garage is Piedmon," said Kari.  
  
Mimi looked scared. Sora looked baffled. "Why would those two be here?"  
  
"Something to do with death and destruction, taking over the world, and just getting out for the weekend," pointed out Kari. "There's less to do in the Digital World on Saturday night than there is..." Her voice trailed off, as she fumbled for words. "Well...here."  
  
Mimi was indignant. "What do you mean? There's tons of neat stuff to do."  
  
"Mimi, the best suggestion you made all night was to plaster Sora's face with makeup," said Kari, trying to be gentle. "How's that again?"  
  
Mimi's face fell. "Oh---well... I suppose you're right."  
  
Kari thought about it, as her attention strayed to the window once more. "Oh, looks like they've discovered each other's evil nefarious plans." She listened for a minute. "Wow!"  
  
Mimi, now curious, joined Kari. "Ooh, what are they saying?"  
  
"I don't think I should repeat it," said Kari. "My mother would get mad at me for using words like that."  
  
"Like what, Kari?" Now Sora was curious, craning her neck to see out the window."  
  
"Well..." said Kari. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"  
  
"Sure," said Sora. "What was it?"  
  
"Well, Piedmon told Myotismon he wasn't a bloodsucker, he was a..." said Kari, then stopped. A distressed look crossed her face. She steeled her resolve and finished repeating it.  
  
Sora blinked. Mimi gasped. "Oh, my...you mean he actually said that...?" said Mimi, her eyes as round as pie tins.  
  
"I didn't think Digimon could do things like that," Sora pointed out. "They don't have...um...you know...do they?"  
  
"Remember Starmon?" gulped Mimi.  
  
"Point made." Sora made a face. "That was an image I really didn't need."  
  
"That's okay," continued Kari, her voice cheerful once more. "Myotismon told Piedmon his wrists were suspiciously limp, and if Piedmon didn't like the way Myotismon did things, he should take his Trump Sword attack and shove it up his--"  
  
"Kari! He didn't say that, did he?" Sora was torn between shock and hysterical laughter.  
  
"'Fraid so," said Kari, giggling herself.  
  
Sora broke into laughter at the thought of the two haughty, arrogant villains bickering like fishwives. "You know, Tai and Matt are never going to believe this one."  
  
"Yeah, too bad," Mimi smirked. "And if Joe were here, he'd probably try to rescue us all and have an asthmatic attack."  
  
"Well, Joe is...Joe," said Sora diplomatically.  
  
"That is sooo true," said Mimi. "Ooh, what are they doing now?"  
  
All three girls stared at both Digimon, now furiously arguing with each other.  
  
"Huh," said Sora, at length. "Do you think Piedmon's trousers make his behind look as wide as File Island?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Mimi. "Definitely." She watched on, wide-eyed. "And he looks positively dismal in that shade of green, too."  
  
"Hey, where's the popcorn?" asked Sora.  
  
"Right behind you," said Kari. She handed the bowl to Sora.  
  
"Ooh, ouchie!" said Mimi. "Did Piedmon really ask when Myotismon was planning to become Queen of the Digital World?"  
  
"If you heard that, then I definitely heard Myotismon tell Piedmon to go back to playing with his dolls, and leave world conquest to real Digimon." Sora shook her head. "Digimon or no, they still act like guys."  
  
"Speaking of, you two," said Kari. "I think I may have an idea..."  
  
  
  
Piedmon stopped, mid-taunt, and looked up. "Wonderful," he snarled. "Not only do I have to contend with you, I find myself the laughingstock of a pack of human brats!"  
  
"Playing a fool is unusual for you how?" said Myotismon, giving Piedmon a jaundiced look.  
  
"Spare me," snapped Piedmon in response. "I propose a truce, if for no other reason than to salvage the remains of our dignity." He stopped speaking, and a tiny chorus of giggles was plainly to be heard. "I came here with an objective, that of eliminating my enemies. If you cannot aid me, stay out of my way!"  
  
"Just who do you think you're fooling?" Myotismon arched one eyebrow. "I came here because I couldn't stand four walls and a pack of bumbling morons any longer." He stared balefully at Piedmon, suspecting the other Digimon of dissembling, if not out-and-out lying, about his true intentions. "If your notion of conquest is to come without allies, and inadequately armed, you deserve the failure you'll find."  
  
Piedmon merely looked at him.  
  
"Tell the truth," said Myotismon. "The Digital World bores you, and Lady Devimon is getting on your nerves."  
  
Piedmon's expression soured, his customary demented smile becoming a grimace.  
  
"I thought as much."  
  
Now it was Piedmon's turn to stare daggers at Myotismon. "Since conquest is out of the question, what would you have us do?"  
  
Myotismon grinned, baring his canines. "Since we sought amusement, why should we not pursue it?" He turned to the now-silent house.  
  
Piedmon was silent. Then his lips thinned into a wicked smile. "For once, Myotismon, I believe we agree."  
  
  
  
"So what do you think, Kari? Did the two of them kiss and make up, at least long enough not to annihilate each other?" Sora returned from the kitchen with bottles of soda.  
  
Kari accepted one gratefully. "Probably. If I know either of them, they've probably agreed not to fight long enough to try to do something nasty to all three of us."  
  
Mimi shivered. "I don't understand. How can you just sit there and talk about it so calmly?"  
  
"Much as I hate to admit it, Mimi's got a point," said Sora, picking at the popcorn for the half-popped kernels. "So what's this idea of yours?"  
  
"You know how competetive boys are, right?" Kari took a long drink of her soda. "The only thing keeping them from fighting tooth-and-nail with each other is us."  
  
"You mean what they mean to do to us, right?" Mimi's face had gone pale.  
  
"What they think they're going to do to us," said Kari.  
  
Sora was interested now. "What were you planning to do to them, Kari"  
  
Kari looked surprised. "Didn't I tell you? I'm not going to do anything to them. Nobody is. Their own natural competetiveness is going to do that for us. This is what I have in mind--" Kari outlined her plan to both girls, who listened, then laughed.  
  
"Think you can handle it, Mimi?" Sora thought about it again, and couldn't stop giggling.  
  
Mimi smirked, a worldly knowing expression she'd seen her mother use. "Trust me. This is going to be a piece of cake."  
  
  
  
"So what's your brilliant idea, Piedmon?" Myotismon stared at Piedmon in expectation. "You do have an idea, don't you?"  
  
Piedmon ignored the sarcastic dig. "The obvious thing to do is to get into the house, or to get them to come out of the house."  
  
"Encouraging," said Myotismon. "I once thought you couldn't spot the obvious if it perched on your shoulder, left a dropping, and flew away."  
  
Piedmon gave Myotismon a truly evil look then. His eyes narrowed to slits, brows pulled down in a glare, and his lips thinned to a flat red line. "Better that than to be surrounded by idiots and incompetents," he snapped. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!"  
  
"Think you that I would be naive enough to give you that chance?" Myotismon drew himself to his full height. "I--"  
  
He broke off, midsentence. The door now stood open. "Why don't you come inside before someone calls the police and reports you two as prowlers?" Sora stood looking at them.  
  
Piedmon and Myotismon looked at each other. "Nice plan," said Myotismon.  
  
"Shut up," replied Piedmon as he followed Myotismon into the house. 


	2. Pajama Party Part II

Mimi looked at the two Digimon in the doorway with trepidation. Their towering height alone intimidated her. Myotismon stared down at her with hard eyes. She gazed upwards at him, and smiled. His expression did not change.  
  
"Well," chirped Mimi, voice as bright as a new penny, "so good to see you both. If you could follow me...?"  
  
"Why?" asked Piedmon, who had just stepped inside.  
  
"Because..." Mimi stopped short, her mind blank. The question never once occurred to her. It was a social convention, as ingrained to her as the correct way to fold a napkin, or which shoes went with what dress.  
  
"Because everything we're doing is in here," said Sora, stepping in. Mimi's face had turned an alarming shade of white. "But, hey, suit yourselves. If you want to stand in the doorway all night, who am I to tell you no?" She strolled away, her pace far more casual than she felt. "Come on, Mimi. Do you still want to paint my face?"  
  
The two Digimon exchanged glances. "Very well, if you insist," said Piedmon, his demeanor cool. He frowned in puzzlement, at a complete loss as to what was happening. Turning to Myotismon, he saw that Myotismon was as mystified as he.  
  
"I'll bet you guys are wondering what we're up to, don't you," offered Kari.  
  
"The thought had crossed our minds," replied Myotismon, fixing Kari with a cold stare.  
  
"Well, gentlemen, you happen to be in luck," said Sora. "We are about to let you in on one of the greatest secrets of Mankind."  
  
"And why would you do something like that?" Piedmon raised one eyebrow.  
  
"Well, because..." began Sora. She stopped, mid-sentence, unable to think of a thing to say.  
  
Kari came to Sora's rescue. "...because the more you understand about human beings, the easier it will be to conquer Earth," she finished. "Don't you think?"  
  
Piedmon looked baffled. Myotismon looked skeptical. But neither could refute the logic.  
  
"Very well, then," said Piedmon. "Just what are these secrets of yours?"  
  
Sora looked at Mimi. Mimi nodded. "What women do at a sleepover."  
  
"And this is supposed to be significant how?" Myotismon gave Mimi the entire brunt of his attention.  
  
Mimi turned even paler. "That's why it's a secret," said Sora, stepping in before Mimi crumbled. "Boys just assume we do dumb girl things."  
  
"Nobody would ever suspect that we're part of a secret international organization," said Mimi, trying to pull herself together.  
  
Mimi had everyone's attention now. Not only the Digimon, but her two friends were staring at her in blank confusion. "Of course, you two being Digimon, I don't expect you to know about the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood."  
  
"The Ya-Ya Sisterhood," repeated Sora slowly, trying very hard not to make the statement sound like the question it really was. What on Earth was Mimi up to?  
  
"We're sworn to secrecy," said Mimi. "But we've decided to make an exception for you."  
  
"Why?" Myotismon was openly suspicious now.  
  
"Because you'd only try to torture it out of us anyhow, or something mean and icky like that," Kari pointed out.  
  
Myotismon thought about it, then nodded slowly.  
  
"Now, don't you think this way is much better than that?" asked Kari.  
  
"No," stated Myotismon, his voice flat. "I enjoy torturing others."  
  
"Yes...um, well..." Kari whistled and fidgeted, unwilling to take that conversation any farther.  
  
"Of course, you realize that we'll have to swear you two to secrecy, too," added Mimi.  
  
"Won't that make us part of your society?" asked Myotismon. "What makes you think we want anything to do with that?"  
  
Mimi made an elaborate show out of being surprised. "What? turn down the opportunity for millions of potential loyal minions the world over?"  
  
"That many." Myotismon gave Mimi a long, hard look. "The idea is not without merit, I see."  
  
"There, now that that's settled, let's begin."  
  
Sora moved to Mimi's side, positioning them so that the two Digimon could not overhear their conversation. "Begin what? Mimi, I have no idea what you're doing! And what's this secret society stuff, anyway?"  
  
Mimi shushed her. "It's a real group. My mother belongs to it. She turned to see Myotismon's attention riveted to her. She could feel the suspicion he radiated. "Play along. I'll explain it when I can."  
  
"Yes, but what makes you think you can get away with it? These guys eat normal Digimon for breakfast!" Sora tapped her toe, waiting for a rational answer to an insane situation.  
  
"Sora, the only thing these guys know about the real world is what they've seen and heard," explained Mimi. "How do they know if we're lying or not?"  
  
Sora thought about it, shrugged and went back to the living room. She sincerely hoped Mimi could pull it off.  
  
"So," said Myotismon, as the two girls rejoined the group. "What are these esoteric and arcane rites you mentioned?"  
  
"Well, for starters, we ready ourselves with the proper clothing, makeup and accessories," said Mimi.  
  
"Ceremonial robes, and...?" Piedmon started to look interested.  
  
"Uh, yeah, that's it," said Kari, trying to look serious. "And then we find music we li---I mean that's proper to the ritual, and...umm..."  
  
"Perform sacred dances to it," finished Sora, dredging up memories of social studies classes."  
  
"And what does all this accomplish?" Myotismon was still wary.  
  
"It brings us together on a deeply spiritual level, and aligns us with our innermost needs," stated Sora.  
  
The pronouncement was met yet again with blank stares.  
  
Mimi made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "But I'm sure you two know all about that sort of thing, don't you?" Her voice was sweet enough to pour over pancakes.  
  
"Besides, we're serving food afterwards," said Kari.  
  
Piedmon's eyes lit up. Myotismon noticed and gave Piedmon a sharp dig with one elbow. Piedmon glared at Myotismon.  
  
"Don't give me that look," said Myotismon. "Your trousers are getting tight enough as it is."  
  
"I don't want to know just why you've been staring at my pants, Myotismon," snapped Piedmon. "Trust me when I tell you that it's as close to getting in them as you're ever going to get!"  
  
"Don't be absurd, Piedmon." Myotismon raised one eyebrow. "I wouldn't be caught dead in your clothing. It's much too tacky for me."  
  
"Tacky!" cried Piedmon. "You go too far, Myotismon!" Both digimon faced each other, eyes narrowed in murderous rage, the digidestined forgotten for the moment.  
  
"Gentlemen! Do you want to continue or not?" Sora's voice cut through the commotion. She frowned at both digimon in a remarkable imitation of her mother's 'adult' look. "I thought your intentions were serious."  
  
Piedmon sulked. Myotismon muttered something under his breath, then lapsed into sullen silence.  
  
"That's...better," said Sora, wishing she could say what she really meant. But the situation was tense enough. She didn't want to make things any worse.  
  
"Mimi, just where did you put the latest...um, discs of sacred chants?" Kari piped up, trying to bridge the awkward moment.  
  
"Over by the CD player," said Mimi, still trying to calm her jangling nerves. She couldn't repress a hysterical giggle, and went into the linen closet to see what was available.  
  
Kari stood in awed silence, looking at more CDs than she'd seen at a music shop. "Um...guys? Which 'sacred chants' would be proper for tonight? Britney Spears, Christine Aguilera, or what's left of the Spice Girls?  
  
"I don't know," said Sora. "All those seem a little too...worldly, don't you think?"  
  
"There are some Enya CDs in there," said Mimi, reappearing with an armful of sheets in a wild array of colors and prints. "Is that spiritual enough?"  
  
"Spiritual, yeah," said Sora. "But have you ever tried dancing to it?"  
  
Sora looked at Mimi, then motioned her over. "Mimi! What are you doing with the sheets?"  
  
"Ceremonial robes," said Mimi.  
  
"But they're sheets!" said Sora. "Don't you think these guys are going to think that's just plain wrong?" She glanced behind herself. Apart from throwing venomous glances at each other, both Digimon looked supremely bored.  
  
"Sora! Come on! It's the best I can do," cried Mimi. "There is no clothing in the house that could possibly fit either one of them. They're both over seven feet tall!"  
  
Sora's face fell as she realized the inevitability of the situation. "But is this going to work?"  
  
"Of course it will," replied Mimi. "My mother says you can do anything with a sheet, some imagination, and safety pins."  
  
"Oh." Sora pondered the point. "Was that why you were a technicolor ghost for Hallowe'en last year?"  
  
"That, and the rash I got from eating something weird my mother cooked. I mean, I couldn't be seen in public looking like that," said Mimi. She shuddered at the memory. "I still have no idea what I ate."  
  
"Hm..." said Kari, still poring through endless stacks of compact discs. "Who's the big Yanni fan in your house, Mimi?"  
  
"Oh, that's my father's music," said Mimi. "Try the leftmost CD tower."  
  
Kari moved past a bookshelf crammed with discs, eyes skimming over the titles. She stopped abruptly, and grabbed one, reading the contents. Her mouth quirked, then widened into a huge grin. "Hey, Mimi."  
  
Mimi looked up.  
  
"I didn't know you did aerobics," said Kari.  
  
"Oh, that was something my mother started," said Mimi. "I do it every now and then, because it's fun and the music is good."  
  
"Still remember any of the routines?" Kari laughed softly now.  
  
"Remember them? Sure," said Mimi. "But why...? Oh!" A smile appeared, as she understood. "Oh, my! Yes, that would work!"  
  
Sora joined them. "What would work?"  
  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Pinky?" Kari bit her lip to keep from laughing any louder.  
  
"I think so, Brain," answered Mimi, her eyes shining. She could picture it so clearly.  
  
Kari handed Sora the CD. "Sacred chants and dances," she explained, matter-of-factly.  
  
Sora took the disc, staring down at it without comprehension. Suddenly she got the picture.  
  
"Oh--my--god," said Sora slowly, clapping her hand over her mouth to keep from howling like a demon. The very notion was supremely funny.  
  
"You know, the boys are going to hate us for leaving us out of this, don't you?" Mimi looked smug.  
  
Sora could only nod, hand over her mouth yet, her other arm wrapped around her middle, as she shook with suppressed laughter. Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes.  
  
She finally got herself under control enough to talk. "I think I'm going to order some pizza for later," she gasped, and headed toward the kitchen. 


	3. Pajama Party Part III

"I have deep misgivings about this," said Myotismon, watching the girls flit to and fro like butterflies on a summer evening.  
  
Piedmon did not reply. He had found the remote for the television, and frowned down at it, pushing random buttons. The screen sprang to life. Piedmon's eyes widened as he watched a man drone on about the importance of dental hygiene. "Why don't we have anything like this?" he mused aloud.  
  
"Piedmon! Must you constantly behave like an ass?" Myotismon glared at his rival.  
  
Piedmon did not bother to look up, but continued to fiddle with his new toy. "'Ass', is it, Myotismon? Has anyone bothered to tell you that Hallowe'en isn't for another three months?"   
  
Myotismon's habitual snarl intensified. "Give me that," he ground out from between clenched teeth. "I don't know why I bother talking to you." He looked down at a bewildering array of tiny buttons, each bearing indecipherable symbols. Hazarding a guess, he pushed one. The television channel changed from a lecture on dental hygiene to a vigorous young couple vigorously coupling. Myotismon stared at them in amazement. Piedmon stared at them in keen interest.   
  
The moaning was loud enough to attract Mimi's attention. She saw what was on the screen, and her face froze in shock and embarrassment. Without thinking, she grabbed the remote from Myotismon's hand, and turned the set off.  
  
"Oh, my...goodness," gasped Mimi, face scarlet, eyes wide open. Grasping desperately for composure, she forced a candy-sweet smile that almost looked real. "We're almost ready. That reminds me. What would you two like to eat?"  
  
"Blood," said Myotismon.  
  
Mimi blinked, mind unmercifully blank yet again. All the etiquette in the world could not ever have prepared her for this situation. "Well...yes. But what else would you like?"  
  
Myotismon stared down at her, the corner of his mouth twisted into a moue of disgust. "What else is there?"  
  
Mimi gulped, and wished herself elsewhere, if only for a few minutes. "Pizza?"  
  
  
  
"Pizza?" said Piedmon, who looked pleased. Myotismon gave both of them a black look.  
  
"But I'm sure something else can be arranged," improvised Mimi, wondering what the local butcher shop could sell her.  
  
Myotismon nodded, eyes still narrowed. He turned his back to both of them in a remarkable simulation of a human huff.  
  
From the kitchen came Sora's voice. "Garbage pizza and deep-dish pepperoni okay?" Sora stuck her head out to look.  
  
"Yes," answered Mimi, not daring to take her eyes off either Digimon. "That's fine. And some cheese bread, too."  
  
"Okay." Sora disappeared back into the kitchen.  
  
Piedmon grew instantly wary. "'Garbage' pizza? Just what is that supposed to be?" He stared down at Mimi.  
  
Mimi could feel herself shrivel under the brunt of his gaze. Gathering what little nerve she had, she piped up. "Oh! That just means with everything on it," she hastily assured him.  
  
Piedmon's eyebrows furrowed deeply, as he abruptly went from hostile to confused. "Oh. I see."  
  
"No, you don't," countered Myotismon, in disgusted tones.  
  
  
  
"Bite me, Myotismon," said Piedmon, giving him a gesture he had learned watching the Digidestined.  
  
"In your dreams," said Myotismon.  
  
"Well, now that that's decided, shall we don our ceremonial robes?" Mimi sighed mentally, and promised herself a new dress for her pains. She had earned it.  
  
Piedmon looked thrilled.   
  
"Yes," snapped Myotismon. "Let's get this over with."  
  
  
  
Mimi made her way into the living room, the two Digimon in tow. She stopped at the pile of sheets, comforters, bedspreads and the odd curtain or two, mentally sorting them out. There had to be something that looked good on seven foot tall monsters, didn't there? Her mother spent enough time at white sales trying to find that perfect sheet set. Aha, red satin king sized sheets. Perfect. She had forgotten that St. Valentine's Day when her father had attempted to turn their home into a 'love nest', and snickered. Her mother's face froze when she saw the results, and wondered aloud why her husband wanted his family to live in a bordello. After that, her father never tried his hand at interior decorating again. Still, the sheets would come in handy. But what would the other one wear? Mimi bit her lip. Better still, who would wear this?  
  
She was saved from that dilemma, as Piedmon grabbed the sheets, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Perfect," he said.  
  
Myotismon's lips twisted into a moue of distaste. "With green trousers?"  
  
"Sod off, Myotismon," replied Piedmon, holding a sheet against himself experimentally. "I like red."  
  
Mimi watched the two snipe at each other, her mind wrestling with the problem of exactly what to do with the sheets. Sora stepped in at that point.  
  
"Here," said Sora, grabbing the sheet out of Piedmon's hands. "Let me help you with that. She twisted, pulled, and wound the soft fabric deftly. Within minutes, it had become a serviceable toga.  
  
Mimi's jaw dropped. She had watched the entire thing, and still couldn't fathom how Sora had done it. "How...?"  
  
  
  
"The Discovery Channel," said Sora. "It was some show about fashion through the ages."  
  
Mimi's eyebrows shot up. She might actually have to watch something educational sometime, if it had to do with clothes.  
  
"And now for you," said Sora, looking Myotismon up and down, trying very hard to imagine something he could wear. "I'm thinking you may have to take off the cape -"  
  
"Cloak," Myotismon corrected her icily.  
  
"Er, cloak," Sora quickly amended. She stared at the pile of cloth, hoping for a brainstorm. "How do you feel about brocade?" Her eye fell upon a gold and black paisley comforter than seemed to have potential. Where was Mimi when you needed her?  
  
From the kitchen, Sora could hear Mimi talking on the phone. "...no, sir, this isn't a prank. I would not be calling you if I didn't absolutely need it." A pause. "Why blood? Well, we have some very important visitors from a foreign country with strict dietary laws." True enough, she supposed.  
  
There was another lengthy pause. "No, no, please don't hang up! I -" Silence. There was a plaintive sigh. Mimi stuck her head out to look at Sora. "This is going to take longer than I thought."  
  
  
  
"Mimi, what are you doing?" Sora stared at Mimi.  
  
"Getting something for Myotismon to eat," explained Mimi. "Right now, we don't have anything."  
  
  
  
Sora sighed, too. "Doesn't do pizza. Right." Why were there never any vegan supervillains?  
  
The tall digital vampire lord stared down at her. "That's right. I don't 'do' pizza." A wicked smile curved his lips upward, exposing both canines. "But I'm sure you'll do nicely."  
  
Sora caught a glimpse of razor sharp white teeth pointed in her general direction, and desperately wanted him to be somewhere else tonight. Tonight was supposed to be fun. "Uh, Mimi, why don't you try calling my uncle Iori? The one that's an assistant night manager at that really huge supermarket?"  
  
  
  
Mimi peered at Sora. "I didn't know he did that. Where's the phone number?"  
  
"Palm Pilot, inside my backpack."  
  
"But, Sora." Mimi looked puzzled. "What will I tell him?"  
  
Sora thought fast. "Tell him I can't come to the phone right now. Tell him that it's part of a really elaborate practical joke I'm pulling on someone, and that I will owe him, big time. He loves practical jokes more than anyone else I know, besides Tai. And see if he can get someone to run it over."  
  
Mimi listened. "Think this will work?"  
  
"It's the best bet we have, isn't it?" Sora steeled her nerve to look directly back at Myotismon. "Blood is hard to come by in the real world," she said.  
  
Myotismon laughed. "Not for me." Sora rolled her eyes. Oh, hell, not now!   
  
"I'm on it." Mimi disappeared back into the kitchen.  
  
"This may take some time," said Sora. She didn't want the entire plan to fall apart on a pointless detail like this. Stupid vampires.   
  
Just then Kari reappeared. "Need a hand, Sora?"  
  
"Yes!" The answer came out in a strained squeak. Sora winced at the sound, and strove to calm herself. She motioned Kari over. "Kari, where did you go?" Sora spoke in a tense whisper.   
  
"Huh?" Kari blinked. "I went down to the convenience store on the corner. Mimi said we were out of chips. Didn't she tell you?"  
  
"No," whispered Sora. Just like Mimi to forget something like that! "But never mind." She took a deep breath and spoke aloud. "Myotismon needs something to wear." Sora motioned to the sheets and blankets. "For the ceremony, of course."  
  
Kari understood. "The ceremony," she repeated, nodding. She reached into the pile and extracted the comforter that had caught Sora's attention. "I kind of like this. But it's not really toga material."  
  
"No," said Sora slowly. "Something more like a coronation robe." She could see it now, one corner draped across his chest and pinned, letting the rest flow behind him off the one shoulder.  
  
Oh, great. Sora groaned to herself. It had finally happened. Mimi's fixation with clothes was starting to rub off on her.  
  
  
  
"Great idea, Sora," said Kari. "Let me just get the safety pins."  
  
  
  
"Now, is anyone interested in my opinion? By any chance?" Myotismon glared at both girls.  
  
Sora looked at Kari. Kari peered up at Myotismon. "Well, what do you think about it, then?"  
  
  
  
Myotismon looked at the comforter. He ran a finger over the jacquard weave of the fabric. One eyebrow went up.  
  
"I think it really goes well with the blue of your tunic," offered Kari helpfully.   
  
"Do you now?" Myotismon's response was dry as dust. Kari blushed. "Very well, then. It will suffice." He snapped his fingers. "You, Kari. Assist me by putting it on."  
  
  
  
Kari was nettled by Myotismon's commands. "Myotismon, have you ever considered asking someone to do something for you?"  
  
"No," replied Myotismon.  
  
"Well, there's honesty for you," said Kari. No point in getting really annoyed. Myotismon's manners were actually better than Tai's. She grabbed the comforter and realized that she couldn't possibly reach his shoulder. "Mmm...Myotismon, could you possibly...bend down a little?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, all right," snapped Myotismon. He pulled one corner of the coverlet down over his shoulder far enough for Kari to fasten it under his other arm.   
  
Kari looked at the results. Absolutely ludicrous. "There, that should do it." Not nearly as ludicrous as Piedmon looked, though. Flame red with light avocado green? He almost had her sympathy.  
  
A happy squeal came from the kitchen. "Oh, good news, Sora! Your uncle Iori found what we need, and he's sending someone over with it."  
  
"Yeah, great." Sora indulged herself in a moment of relief. Now if only Myotismon would actually deign to drink the stuff.  
  
  
  
She pushed the thought right out of her mind, preferring to deal with but one problem at a time, please. Now, on to stage two. 


End file.
